


Hell Hath no Fury Like a Weasley Scorned

by Le_Me



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, BAMF George Weasley, Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Humor, No Romance, No Slash, POV Draco Malfoy, POV George Weasley, Platonic Cuddling, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3780808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Me/pseuds/Le_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Weasley twins return to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts by request of Dumbledore to present their new 'Shield line' for the upcoming war, things are put on hold when a certain blonde Slytherin feels he has a score to settle. George isn't amused.</p><p>[Old story, written in 2010 - plans to re-write in the future]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Hath no Fury Like a Weasley Scorned

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, apart from one Weasley product.
> 
> A/N: No slash, no pairings and all is canon except the phobia. Reviewing is really appreciated, even if it's only a few words.

**17:30**

A cloud moved across the face of the crescent moon, its light sweeping across the inky depths of the black lake and the silhouette of the dark imposing castle of Hogwarts. From afar the only signs of life visible came from the small flickering orange dots within its walls. It was completely quiet around the grounds, as everyone within the school was now moving into the Great hall to prepare for the traditional Easter feast. The only sounds now were the distant bumping of the boats against the wooden jetty at the shore of the lake, and the soft shuffling of hooves from the invisible herd of thestrals responsible for pulling the carts up to the castle entrance.

Two lone figures had just left the village of Hogsmead and were now making their way up the dark path to the fortress. One was dressed in a mustard coloured travelling cloak, the other was in magenta, both were the same height, the same weight, and had the same flaming red hair.

"So, any idea what we should blast each other with first? Coming in too strong at the beginning would be exciting, but anti-climactic. I reckon starting off small then building them up is probably the best course of action," said Fred, miming the actions with his wand in imitation of a duel. "What do you think George, we could start small with a few jinxes, then move on to hexes," he said, starting to pose in fighting stances and make zapping noises, "and _then_ I th-"

"-ink you've had too much sugar," finished George, chuckling and reaching out to grasp one of his twin's flailing hands in his own, holding it loosely by his left side as he led him closer in the direction of the castle.

"I'm just excited!" beamed Fred, squeezing George's hand slightly. "The looks on their faces when they see what we've made. I hope Lee kept his trap shut, Dumbledore meant for this to be a _surprise_ after all."

Just before Headmaster Dumbledore had left urgently to go to, well, goodness knows where before term resumed, he had made contact with the Weasley twins in the holidays after learning of their new protective range of products, and asked them to bring enough for the whole school. Payment would be made to the brothers in due course, and could they do a short demonstration of the capabilities of their merchandise at the culmination of the Easter feast. Fred and George had naturally agreed and here they were.

Their clothing shield line had been a major success. The Ministry of Magic had wiped them out shortly before the garments had even hit the shelves at their establishment Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and this next batch was another big order. George had used a shrinking charm on the accessories in order to fit them into the medium sized WWW briefcase he was now gripping in his right hand. He hoped they'd brought enough…

The trees started to thin out as the castle came into view, and the dirt track began to turn to stone. Fred had begun to swing their clasped hands and grin as he noticed the open oak doors. A thought suddenly struck him. "Do you think Dumbledore told Filch _we'd_ be paying a visit this evening? He's the one who meets the guests after all."

"That's a good point," George chuckled. "Aw, won't he be overjoyed to see _us_."

They shared a giggle. George could imagine the look on the caretaker's face when he and Fred sidled in through the entrance, tracking dirt all over his 'nice, clean floor' just like the good ol' days. His reverie was promptly ended, however, when his twin started tugging him incessantly over the stone slabs that lead to the colossal opening.

"C'mon! I can see them from here inside the Great hall. We should hurry up, we're probably slightly late you know," said Fred, fixing George with an 'And it's all your fault' type of look out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey, I never _asked_ for one of the Decoy Detonators to accidentally go off and ignite an entire box of Whiz-bangs in the process, did I?" said George defensively.

"Well seeing as how you were the one fiddling with them moments before it happened, I'd say that was pretty much your fault," countered Fred.

"That poor old woman...I hope Verity managed to get her wig down from the ceiling," winced George, as he recalled how a rocket had shot up the back of an elderly lady's head only hours before, taking her hair with it to the top of the shop.

"Believe me there was nothing 'poor' about her when she was whacking me across the head with her handbag," said Fred, rubbing the back of his skull at the memory. It was lucky those fireworks hadn't destroyed the shop the rate at which they were flying around and exploding all over the place. He just hoped it hadn't permanently scared away any potential customers, that's all they needed.

The twins made their way through the double doors to find none other than Mr Filch the caretaker and his cat Mrs Norris waiting for them expectantly, just like they had thought.

"YOU TWO!" came the gruff welcome from the scrawny man who had obviously _not_ been informed that the two old banes of his life would be the guests this evening. George almost laughed at the expression on Filch's face, and how it matched perfectly to the one he'd just imagined; eyes wide, mouth open and disbelief etched into every wrinkle. Mrs Norris hissed at his side.

"And a good evening to you too," said the twins, their voices dripping with sarcasm.

"How've you been Argy? Miss us?" came George's cheery voice as he placed his briefcase on the floor and had a wander about the entrance hall. "I like what you've done with the place."

The castle entrance looked as ancient and cobweb infested as it had always looked, but it was a favourite past-time of theirs annoying Filch, and their unexpected arrival was as good as any moment to do so.

"Yeah it looks great!" continued Fred. "Is that a _new_ layer of dust I see on the statues? Really brightens it up in here. You always did have an eye for interior design, Filchy."

"SHUT YER TRAPS the both of ya!" growled Filch. "Out of all the people who could've come here tonight, it had to be you two!"

"Aww you hear that Georgie? He _missed_ us," said Fred in a lovey-dovey tone.

"I did NOT _miss_ YA!" rasped the caretaker. "The moment that this school was shot of you twin terrors…"

He adopted a dreamy expression on his face and seemed to start talking to himself.

"No more dung bombs in the corridors or stink pellets dropped in my office. No more late nights chasing you around or falling victim to your endless pranks…" he sighed, "it was too good to be true."

He seemed to come back to himself slightly and his face changed back to livid in an instant.

"And to think I was _this_ close to finally being allowed to horsewhip the pair of you! Oh how I miss that Umbridge woman, she was the best thing that ever happened to this place, wasn't she Mrs Norris," he added sadly to his cat, before addressing them directly.

"RIGHT!" he snapped, making the twins jump slightly as the quick change in volume. "You two are gona follow me and you're not to touch ANYTHING. If I suspect that you're up to mischief in any way I'll be having words with Professor McGonagall! Now MOVE!"

He began leading them along a long thin passage that deviated from the main corridor. It terminated in a room stacked with glass cabinets, containing trophies of all shapes and sizes, medals of every colour, and plaques of all the past Head boys and girls of Hogwarts. A few cosy armchairs and wooden coffee tables had been arranged around a central fireplace; the healthy blaze within creating eerie dancing shapes upon the abundant glass panels, whilst the metallic surfaces inside shimmered enticingly. They could hear a booming female voice coming from the other side of a wooden door that was located at the top of a clean cut stone staircase on the far wall. It was instantly recognisable as Professor McGonagall's and the twins realised that this must've been the room behind the staff table that the Tri-Wizard champions went into after their names were selected from the Goblet of Fire two years ago.

"You're to remain here until called and remember, no TRICKS!" With that Filch turned and left the room the same way he'd came in, muttering things about rotten twins ruining his day; Mrs Norris followed in his wake.

"Such a nice kind bloke," remarked Fred. "Never met a better soul than ol' Filch."

George snorted and placed the briefcase on one of the low tables; he opened it up and began to inspect the contents. "Looks like we won't be called for a while, by the sounds of it the feast hasn't even begun yet," he observed as he distinctly heard McGonagall start giving out announcements, which was an indicator that the meal would be starting shortly. He could've sworn he just heard the words 'guests' and 'live demonstration'.

"And to think we rushed out of the shop like a couple of lunatics as well; we've still got our bloody nametags on," he mused noticing the small WWW badge still pinned to his robes.

A loud growl was heard within the room, and George whipped his head around just in time to see his twin place his hands over his stomach.

"Well, looks like a trip to the kitchens is in order then," Fred grinned lazily. "Why don't I get us a snack and you have a nose around in there and make sure we haven't forgotten anything. Not that we'd have time to go back and get anything now, but still."

"Go on then. Say Hi to Dobby for me while you're there," George shot over his shoulder. "Don't take too long either, you know what the elves are like, they'd go slaughter a pig and prepare a hog roast if you asked them to," he added.

"Yeah yeah," replied Fred, and he left the room.

George began examining the contents of the briefcase and started humming to himself as the fire crackled in the background and the noisy clatter of cutlery, plates and goblets marked the beginning of the feast.

 

**17:44**

For once in his life, Draco Malfoy wanted to shake the hand of a Gryffindor. Thanks to that gormless commentator Lee Jordan and his inability to keep his gob shut, Malfoy had learned of the supposed arrival of the Weasley twins tonight before most when he overheard one of the dolt's conversations. News such as this usually would've been trivial and unimportant to the blonde, however this time it had significance. Malfoy hadn't forgotten the outcome of the Quidditch cup match of Slytherin vs. Gryffindor and how he had been knocked unconscious by one of the twins. He was too busy having a good ol' time cussing out the Potters before he was aware he'd been punched in the face by the one called George. Ever since that day he'd been planning on how to get his revenge.

Malfoy thought he'd never get his chance to properly teach them a lesson as they seemed generally fearless. After a while he almost decided to go after one of the younger redheads instead simply to irk the duo but, again, salvation came in the form of blabbermouth Jordan who let it slip in one 7th years charms class that the twin called Fred was a Claustrophobe; naturally the Slytherin who found out immediately blabbed to Draco who took the information on board with delight. It was the perfect way he was going to get back at the traitor; all he'd have to do was separate his double from him and shove him somewhere small and dark; he'd be begging Draco to release his brother in no time.

Things looked bleak when the weasels left Hogwarts, but the final piece of the plan fell into place once he realised that they'd be here tonight. It was simply a case of hiding in the entrance hall for them to appear - under a disillusionment charm - find out where they were going to be during the feast and somehow separate them. Draco didn't even have to wait long for his opportunity to arise. He, Crabbe and Goyle were hiding behind one of the statues outside the Great hall with their eyes trained on the doors, when suddenly one of the very peasants he was after came walking right on past from out of a corridor, completely alone and vulnerable and heading towards the far staircase. Draco just managed to catch a glimpse of the name spelled out in a purple lettering that adorned the shiny rectangular tag fastened to the front of the redhead's robes as he walked by: Fred. This was really too easy.

 

**18:39**

Malfoy was a dead man. Fred hadn't come back from the kitchens for about an hour after he'd gone for a snack and they had a hall full of students to address soon. To make matters worse, when he'd gone to investigate, the elves had told him that Fred hadn't called in to the kitchens at all that day. He knew Malfoy was behind it, the little prick had had the audacity to yell, "Where's your copy Weasley? He hasn't _wandered off_ has he?" when he passed him in the corridor; grin plastered all over his haughty face as his menagerie of snakes cackled and guffawed after him. The fact that the rodent was wandering the castle when he should've been at the feast in the first place spoke volumes.

He'd looked everywhere sensible he could think of: the Gryffindor common room and dorms, the Quidditch changing room, even Filch's office! But to no avail. Due to the size of Hogwarts it would be fruitless trying to find him on his own at this rate. What, with the Marauder's map now no longer in his possession it would be nigh impossible. No, it wasn't hard to put two and two together, he was going to seek out the little ferret right now and have a nice chat with him right in the middle of the feast where everyone could see him squirm.

After concluding that Fred wasn't on the 7th floor, George started to make his way down to the Great hall with determined steps, blood boiling in his ears and jaw set. He hoped for Malfoy and his cronies' sake that Fred was unharmed, because if they had touched so much as a hair atop his twin's head, they were going to learn exactly what happens to those who dare cross a Weasley.

Meanwhile at the feast, everyone was happily taking advantage of the glorious spread in front of them. The tables had been filled with racks of tender lamb, whole turkeys, honey glazed beef joint punctured with peppercorns and a multitude of buttery mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables and gravy boats. Plates of crisp Yorkshire puddings were piled high looking as if they were to fall over at any minute, whilst small pots of apple, cranberry and mint sauce floated overhead in random patterns. Decorations of bunnies and chicks donned every surface, and ribbons covered the walls.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Hermione and the rest of the 6th years were passing around tankards of pumpkin juice and discussing everything from NEWTs - in Hermione's case - to, inevitably, the Slytherins.

"…Why is he smiling like the cat who just got the canary," Ron mumbled, eyes fixed on the far table.

"Huh?" asked Harry, turning round and following Ron's line of sight.

"Malfoy," stated Ron. "Ever since the feast started he's been gloating about something to his followers over there, looking all pleased at himself."

Hermione also glanced at the Slytherins and noted that Ron was right. Malfoy was seemingly doing an impression of a shaking, scared little girl by the looks of it, or it could've equally been a flobberworm, it was hard to tell at this distance.

"You know Malfoy," piped up Ginny, "he probably just told a first year that the suits of armour transfigure themselves into dementors if you dare touch one or something."

"Yeah," sniggered Seamus Finnigan, "either that or they better do as he says from now on or he'll 'feed them to the giant squid.'"

Once the group of friends had exhausted all the possibilities of Malfoy's unnervingly smug face, things moved on to Quidditch. Ron in particular led this line of conversation with gusto.

"It's only a matter of time," he said, shovelling carrots into his overflowing mouth, "the Chudley Cannons are ninth in the league now, they'll make a comeback you'll see. The Appleby Arrows don't stand a chance in the next match."

"RONALD will you please close your mouth when you're eat-"

"PAH!" scoffed Seamus, cutting off Hermione, "the _Chudley Cannons_ make a comeback? They haven't won the league since the 19th century! I hope it's gona be the Kenmare Kestrels, meself."

"Although I think the Tutshill Tornadoes have got this one, Seamus is right about the Cannons, Ron," reasoned Dean Thomas, "they're useless, they have one of the worst seekers I've ever seen. What's his face…Melvin Pigeon?"

"Gal-vin Gud-geon," corrected Ron indignantly, "and, if he's so _useless_ then why are they ninth in the league?" he said smugly.

"The only reason they're ninth," started Seamus, "is because the Ballycastle Bats slightly overdid it the night before their last match, ended up in a pub brawl which was entirely not their fault, and had to be taken to St Mungo's making the Cannons win by default. If they had actually _played_ the match, they would've wiped the pitch with them."

Sniggers passed along the table as Ron glared at the Irishman over his forkful of beef, and muttered into his dinner.

"Say Ron," began Harry, changing the subject before a similar brawl ensued gauging by the look on the redhead's face, "what's all this about Fred and George turning up?"

"Oh yeah, they're coming here after the feast I think," said Ron. "Apparently Dumbledore asked them to do a presentation or something before he left for Merlin knows where. They haven't told me anything about it," he grumbled. "It was Lee who told me."

On the other side of the table, Lee Jordan, upon hearing the names of his best friends and his own, leaned over and raised his voice over the chatter of the 7th years to address them. "You wondering what the twins are up to?" he grinned.

Lee had been with the pair prior that evening, and had been invited back to Hogwarts, along with them, to watch their presentation and give some moral support; it's not like he'd much to do these days anyway, commentating careers were harder to find than a bowtruckle in a haystack.

The 6th years nodded and Ron spoke up. "You know what they're doing?" he said, almost dropping a chocolate profiterole into his pumpkin juice - as the tables had now cleared themselves and dinner had been replaced with pudding.

"Yep, It's gona be brilliant, as far as I know they've created…a shield line," he said mysteriously.

"A shield line?" questioned Harry and Hermione in unison.

"Yeah," said Lee, "you know, a range of products that will protect you from nasty spells. I won't say too much, but put it this way, the Ministry has ordered over 500 already from them, they're gona give a demonstration of sorts to show how they work," he added.

"The Ministry of Magic are ordering defensive products off of _Fred and George?_ " said Ron disbelievingly.

"You should really give them more credit," Hermione said imploringly at Ron, "when it comes to inventing you have to admit they've come up with some truly remarkable magic, mostly for prank purposes yes, but every now and again they do something like this. I'm not really surprised."

"Well I am! This can't be right, all those two are good at is _causing_ mayhem not preventing it," he stressed, guiding the dessert into his mouth.

"I didn't believe them first either," admitted Lee, "but they showed me their workshop during the holidays and it's full of gear. I can't wait to see what they block. In fact, the feast's nearly over, they should be coming in any minute no-"

CRASH!

At that exact moment, all heads turned to the doors of the Great Hall which had swung open with an almighty clatter, to reveal a tall, redheaded man in a magenta travelling cloak. Harry recognised it to be George; it wasn't a dead cert but he was sure he was correct. His musings were cut short however, as it was immediately apparent that something was wrong. Fred was nowhere to be seen, and George - upon bursting in like this without invitation - was now scanning the Slytherin table with a look of utmost fury.

A startled voice piped up from across the hall, "Mr Weasle-"

"You," growled George in such a deep menacing tone, that McGonagall was shocked to silence by the amount of venom present in it. Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors were flabbergasted.

George had not made any attempt to look at anybody else, but instead had fixed his livid gaze sorely on Draco Malfoy. Malfoy upon seeing this instantly swung his feet over the bench and backed away from the table along with Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and a couple of 5th year cronies who apparently had no idea how to react. By the time he had reached for his wand, George had already crossed the hall in 3 long strides, vaulted the table, shoved away any person in his path and lifted Malfoy up by the front of his robes before slamming him into the stone wall, his black wand clattering to the floor.

The hall sprung out of their reverie immediately and began either moving towards the action or standing up on benches to get a better look. The nearby Slytherins had attempted to hex George as he held Malfoy aloft one armed, but he simply cast _Protego_ spells around them so he could talk without interruption. The staff had tried to get closer, but the crowd of students had effectively blocked them off. Once it became apparent that George _wasn't_ going to disembowel Malfoy, it went silent as the casting stopped and everyone tried to listen in.

"I know it was you and your little _friends_ ," he spat in an excellent impression of Malfoy, "who decided it would be amusing to ambush my brother when he was alone and unawares."

Malfoy was now eye level with the redhead, although he didn't dare meet that gaze. He wore a terrified expression as he wriggled in the strong grip, his legs dangling as his hands clamped around George's wrist trying desperately to keep himself from choking.

"You're going to tell me right now where he is," said George in a low fierce voice, "or else you'll learn exactly what happens to conniving little _rats_ who mess with me."

Harry, Ron and Hermione were absolutely astounded. This was a side of George that they'd never seen before; he was positively fuming. Ron vowed that he'd never get on his big brother's bad side if this was the result. He was starting to feel quite intimidated and he was stood at the other side of the room.

Harry knew the Weasley's were famous when it came to tempers, he'd certainly seen Mrs Weasley on numerous occasions nearly blow a gasket, and Ginny more so with her patented 'Bat-bogey' hexes. He'd also seen the twins see red, usually when Quidditch was involved, but this was different. This was a whole new level of cold fury that radiated off George like waves. His gaze was smouldering.

"H-h-he's d-down in-n the d-dungeons!" Malfoy stuttered, looking like he was about to wet himself at any moment. "I-in one of th-the cells! I swear!"

"Good," said George, not once breaking eye contact. "I'm going to go down there right now and if he's either not there, or hurt in any way," he slammed Malfoy once more into the hard wall, his head connecting with a crack, "come hell or high water I will find you."

And with that, he dropped the teen unceremoniously onto his backside and swept out of the room, cloak billowing behind him. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Lee bolted after him at this news not wanting to miss a thing, whilst deciding that the remaining Gryffindors would be more than capable, for now, dealing with the chastised Malfoy.

 

**18:52**

George rounded a corner and made for the dungeons at a quick pace, the others, probably still wary of his mood, kept their distance behind him. He would've chuckled if he wasn't meant to be playing the role of big bad brother right now. His thoughts drifted back to what had just occurred. He hadn't meant to slam the little rodent that hard, he hoped he hadn't given him a concussion or anything even though he probably deserved one. He had only wanted to put the fear of God into him and give him a right good scare. He doubted Malfoy had actually harmed Fred in any way, and he definitely wouldn't be trying anything from now on after that performance, but he'd felt the need to make it clear to him that he was deadly serious, and wouldn't hesitate to hunt Malfoy down if his brother had come to any harm.

Once the group had made it down the flights of stairs into the dank bowels of the school, they immediately made for a large room at the end of a lengthy corridor. The chamber was dark, damp and musty, like something had long ago died in one of the corners and been there ever since. The torches lit themselves when the band of students came farther enough in, and illuminated a room that's walls were lined with medieval torture devices, cell grates and cobwebs.

The floor contained a number of smaller oubliettes used for enclosing those imprisoned in the smallest space possible, intending to instil a sense of terror, discomfort and solitude. George's heart sank into his stomach.

"FRED!" he shouted. "Are you here?"

A frantic muffled banging confirmed his worst fears and he launched himself towards one of the central hatches.

"Oh Merlin," gasped Hermione, as George used his wand to carefully remove the iron covering, revealing a cold, dust covered and shaking Fred. He immediately leant down and grasped his brother around the middle, hauling him out of the tiny space and onto the solid floor.

Once the petrified twin had been set on his knees in front of his kneeling brother, he flung his arms around him and buried his face into his neck. George wrapped his arms around Fred, and placed a hand on the back of the trembling head whilst murmuring soothing words into the sobbing man's ear.

All George could think about was how utterly heart-breaking the sound coming from his twin was. It had been years since either of them had been reduced to tears like this, and only then it had been a by-product of a good hiding from their parents. He knew Fred was just a bit shaken and he'd be fine, but still _his_ Freddie was _crying_ , and he hated how much it affected him. A hot surge of anger bubbled up in his chest, and he tightened his grip around his now hiccupping brother. So, they thought it was funny to use someone's fears against them, eh? Two could play at that game.

"Those…those COWARDS!" shrieked Ginny. "How _dare_ they do this!" she said, breathing heavily and voice reverberating off the walls. "How did they even find out?"

She proceeded into a rant which was eventually quelled by Harry, which was quite an achievement considering he was about ready to hit the roof himself.

"It's my fault," mumbled the small voice of Lee, who hadn't taken his eyes off of Fred. "That time in charms class last year when Fred asked me to go into that tiny store cupboard for him, and some big 7th year snake made some crack about following orders from a Weasley being the lowest thing he'd ever heard – well you get the idea. And I let it slip about him and _this_. He must've ran to tell everybody afterwards. I thought it would just blow over, I'm such an idiot-"

"No," came a raspy voice. Fred had reluctantly pulled away from George's arms during Lee's announcement and had started wiping his eyes. "No you're not an idiot. It was only a matter of time before they found out and you have nothing to be sorry for. _I'm_ sorry guys. Uhh, look at the state of me I'm such a baby," he said.

"You're _not_ a baby!" came the unmistakable resolute voice of Ron who was now apparently shocked at his own outburst.

All eyes had turned to him, a few eyebrows raised.

"Er - I mean, well you know what I'm like with spiders…"

"And whose fault was that. Mine," stated Fred now making an effort to stand after being in the same cramped position for so long.

George helped him to his feet and gave him a once over.

"You were five," said Ron shrugging slightly, "forget about it."

George finally turned to Fred, wiping away the last of the tear tracks with his thumbs. "Where's your wand?"

"They threw it over there somewhere," he gestured at the far corner where, sure enough, a slim walnut wand stood out against the grey floor.

Harry _accio_ 'd it and passed it to its owner.

"And you're ok," asked George in a sort of half rhetorical question, placing his hands on his twin's shoulders.

"I'll be fine," assured Fred with a small pained smile and slight cough. He looked at George properly this time, taking note of the way his eyes radiated a sort of fierce protective determination, and the way his jaw was set.

"Good," said George. And before Fred had time to respond, he had already turned to the others. "Take him to the hospital wing anyway."

With that, George swivelled around and thundered out of the room, wand grasped in his hand and adrenaline coursing through him like a torrent. He eventually had to take a few deep calming breaths before he went any further. Going after Malfoy like a man possessed and beating him to a pulp wasn't the way to go about this, he had to fight fire with fire if the brat was going to learn a lesson.

Fear; the second the word was mused upon, a memory from a past Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson popped into his head and he grinned to himself slightly. He knew exactly what he was going to do to the ferret, and he knew exactly where he was going to be. A plan started to form.

"Oh bugger," wheezed Fred, coughing with all the dust. "Someone go after him! In fact no, get McGonagall! George may have a longer fuse than I do, but the explosion at the end is bigger, believe me."

"We'll go after him!" exclaimed Harry looking over at Ron. "Lee! Go get McGonagall, this could get ugly. Girls, take Fred to Pomfrey," he shouted over his shoulder as he and Ron took after George.

Everyone left in different directions at these words, and soon Fred was left with Hermione and his little sister.

"C'mon," said Ginny putting a hand on his back and leading him out of the dungeons with Hermione at his other side. His muscles still ached horribly and his chest burned with everything he'd breathed in, but he was fine really albeit slightly shaken and embarrassed at crying in front of everyone.

"He flipped his lid in the Great Hall, you know," she went on, trying to lighten the mood, "had Malfoy against the wall and everything. The table of Slytherins tried to get him off but he was having none of it."

Fred would've laughed if he wasn't so wheezy. The brat deserved everything that came to him, well, death was a bit extreme, and that was the most likely outcome if Georgie got to him first. They'd stuffed him into that horrible little cell whilst he'd been body binded. Only able to move his eyes, he'd tried in vain to glare them down when it was obvious from his shakes he was terrified. Malfoy had produced a shit eating grin at this revelation and threw his wand across the room before dropping him into the pit, shutting him in, lifting the curse and then leaning over the closed grate, looking through the tiny eyehole.

"Whoever heard of a _weasel_ being afraid of small holes in the ground! I'd have thought you'd be right at home in there," he'd laughed mockingly with his minions, before leaning closer, and adding in a serious tone, "consider this punishment for your duplicate's actions at the last Quidditch match. It's his fault you're down there. You peasants may find it acceptable to go around punching civilized folk in the face, but we don't. Once we think you two have learned to respect your place, we'll let you out, but for now, we have a feast to attend."

And with that he'd waltzed out of the room, torches flickering out leaving Fred in complete darkness to listen to the retreating cackle of Pansy Parkinson. He shuddered at the memory. He'd been stuck in there for the best part of an hour and most of that was spent having a panic attack. The way the walls of the pit had closed around him so mercilessly tight and solid had nearly made him lose his mind in terror.

The fear had stemmed from an incident in his youth. Fred had fallen down a badger hole when he was six years old whilst he and George had been playing in the field beyond the back garden at the Burrow. George had gone inside to get them a drink and Fred had gone exploring in his boredom. Neither of them had had a particularly long attention span at that age, you couldn't really blame him. Anyway, he'd been investigating a hole he'd found at the base of a group of bushes, when he'd stuck his head in too far and inevitably fell in; lucky the thing was empty at the time. Mrs Weasley had come running when she'd heard the wails radiating from the field and pulled him out; he'd never really gotten over it.

He and the girls began to climb the flights of stairs leading to the ground floor. It was a bit slower than usual due to Fred's stiff limbs but they managed eventually; a sinking feeling now lodged itself firmly in his stomach as his thoughts returned to the present. He just hoped old Minnie caught up with the others quick. If a table of Slytherins couldn't stop a fully grown rampaging Weasley, then a few sixth years didn't have an ice cube's hope in hell.

 

**18:53**

The Great Hall had erupted into chaos. The Gryffindors, upon finally catching up with the preceding's had rounded on the Slytherins, bellowing their outrage, shooting hexes from their wands and in some cases hurling pieces of food from the feast which, in the uproar, now lay forgotten on the tables. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws responded seemingly by taking sides with the Gryffindors and pointing their wands directly into the heart of the crowd of green, shouting obscenities and generally creating a wall between the rivals as to prevent an all-out scrap. The Slytherins for their part immediately went on the defensive. Being so severely outnumbered they had no choice but to put up shield charms and scream insults of their own in an effort to seem mocking, when it was obvious they wouldn't stand a chance if a brawl were to occur.

Malfoy had taken the opportunity to run for it in the ruckus, pausing only to get the attention of Crabbe and Goyle who obediently followed in his suit out of the doors and down the long corridor. He was still slightly disorientated from the harsh blow to the head he had received, yet hurried away all the same. Humiliation still burned his veins. That filthy blood-traitor had turned the tables and made a complete fool of him in front of the entire school, what's worse is that those of the Slytherin house that had tried to help him got flung away like ragdolls!

Draco rounded a corner, he wasn't stupid, he knew it was only a matter of time before _almighty_ Potter and the rest of the scum came looking for him. They had purposely shoved the copy into the smallest cell they could find upon learning he was a claustrophobe. He hated running away like this like a coward, but the situation called for it. Had he stayed he knew damn well _famous_ Potter or some other equally brainless moron would've developed a hero complex and attempted to blast him into orbit, and all because one of those infuriating gingers had gone missing for thirty seconds. He willed himself to go faster. There was only one place he'd be able to go now, and if he didn't get there soon, a headache would be the least of his problems...

Back in the Great Hall, the staff had managed to bring a degree of sanity back to the feast.

"SILENCE!" resonated the voice of McGonagall now under the influence of the _Sonoros_ charm after locating her dropped wand. The hall froze in surprise as if the students had all forgotten the presence of the staff or were shocked to see them there in the first place.

"YOU WILL ALL TAKE YOUR SEATS IMMEDIATELY AND CEASE THIS VIOLENCE AT ONCE!"

One by one each person grudgingly sat back down, although not before glaring at the Slytherins and wiping remnants of splattered food from the benches.

Professor McGonagall along with the rest of the staff remained standing as she muttered, _"quietus,"_ and addressed them once again in a now quieter but equally stern tone.

"I am aware of what has happened this evening and believe me the persons involved will be dealt with most severely if the accusations are true. However, starting a brawl is NOT-"

BOOM!

The doors to the Great Hall flew open in a thunderous clash as they connected with the wall for the second time that night, cutting off McGonagall and drawing the attention of everyone within the room again. All heads turned round in time to see in run a gasping and wide-eyed Lee Jordan who had apparently ran to the scene. Upon spotting McGonagall he quickly began to splutter a message.

"Professor! It's OK…Fred's alright…we found him in the Dungeon-"

"He's alright!" Parvati Patil interrupted from the Gryffindor table before she could stop herself. Being a twin herself she could relate to the situation slightly better than the others; if it had been Padma she'd have probably reacted the same way.

"George found him stuffed into one of those tiny cell pits in the dungeons…Just like Malfoy said…He was trembling like crazy all covered in dust…but he's fine. They knew he was claustrophobic and did it on purpose," Lee gasped out.

"THOSE ROTTEN BAS-"

"PATIL!" interrupted McGonagall before Parvati could finish her sentence.

"But that's not all Professor!" continued Lee. "Now, just to be clear, I _hate_ Malfoy," he stated, "but you have to step in…George is on the warpath, you have to go now and get to Malfoy before he does, otherwise…he's gona kill him."

At that moment all eyes shot to the Slytherin table where Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle's absences were now noted. Many of the Gryffindors sneered knowingly.

"I will go and find Mr Malfoy after I have spoken here-"

"NO Professor you don't understand!" Lee exclaimed. "He's even angrier than before, believe me. Ron and Harry followed him but you saw what he did a short while ago. If George decides he wants to hurt Malfoy, none of us lot," he gestured around at his fellow students, "are gona be able to stop him. George. Is. Going. To. KILL. HIM."

Professor McGonagall blanched, and she reluctantly accepted the need for her immediate mediation. The twins were fiery tempered alright, stereotypically so, especially when it came to their family. They'd demonstrated that tonight and at a previous Quidditch cup match against Slytherin when, she noted, it had taken a small army of Gryffindors to stop Frederick jumping on the other team even after George and Harry had been sent to her office for decking the blonde.

"Very well Mr Jordan lead the way," conceded McGonagall in an apprehensive voice.

"I believe that I also should come along Minerva, as Mr Malfoy is in my house it is my duty to see to this _predicament_ as well," said Snape coolly.

"Yes Severus, I may require your assistance. Professor Sprout if you would take over here please." She and Snape swooped down the steps to where Lee was waiting. "THE REST OF YOU WILL REMAIN HERE," she threw over her shoulder to the multitudes of rising students as she and the potions master passed through the doors.

There was a chorus of groans at the prospect of missing such an exciting development as everyone resumed their seats once more and immediately started talking animatedly to their neighbours.

 

**19:16**

Malfoy deduced that he was concussed, but he didn't dare go to the hospital wing. No, the room of requirement would be the only sensible place to stake out now. Those twins had managed all sorts of mischief in their time at the school and no doubt knew of every secret passageway and shortcut. His own dorm wasn't safe. Getting up to the seventh floor to access the room was his only priority now, although it shouldn't be taking this long, but in his disorientated state this was easier said than done, and Crabbe and Goyle weren't helping.

"You just leave him to us Ma'foy, we'll take care of 'at scummy traitor for y' no prob'em," boasted Crabbe.

"Yeah," continued Goyle. "Scrawny piece of fi'th won't know what hit 'im-"

"CRABBE, GOYLE YOU BLITHERING FOOLS, SHUTUP!" Malfoy raged and instantly winced. "You saw what he was capable of in there, he blasted all those other students away, you two included, like they were ragdolls, put enough enchantments up to stop a rampaging hippogriff with the flick of his wand and picked me up with one arm like I was nothing. If he could do all that, then what chance would YOU TWO have on your own!" he spat.

"None whatsoever," said a low simmering voice.

Malfoy's head snapped from Crabbe and Goyle's dumbfounded faces in an instant to look ahead at the wall that would've usually transformed into the entrance to the room of requirement, only to find leaning in its place, the silhouette of a tall, slim figure donned in magenta, who had no doubt been waiting for them. He gulped.

"Well, well, well," George began, slowly moving away from the wall and stepping into the moonlight let in by the large windows, illuminating his fiery hair and equally fiery eyes. "Planning on hiding in there were we?" he said, gesturing to the wall behind him.

"It was THESE two idiots who body binded h-him," Malfoy exclaimed before he could stop himself, trembling slightly in apprehension at what was to come.

"And was it also these two idiots whose idea it was in the first place to abduct him and stuff him into that cell after learning of his phobia!" George growled dangerously, walking forward towards the three.

"It's YOUR fault he was down there!" said Malfoy, becoming more confident as adrenaline flooded his system in preparation for a fight or flight. "At the last Quidditch match, you thought you could punch me in the face and walk away scot free? Well, you thought wron-"

"So. You thought by ambushing my brother, taking advantage of his fears and stowing him away in the dungeons would 'teach me a lesson'? You thought I'd be so scared at what you did, (COUGH) cowardly-attacking-him-from-behind (COUGH), that I'd never bother you again? You didn't think for _one_ second that I'd have a slight problem with that and perhaps, oh I don't know, retaliate?" George interrupted.

Malfoy had nothing to say, he knew there was no way he was talking his way out of this now.

Crabbe and Goyle seemed to get the memo also, and raised their wands to George's face.

"TAKE _THIS_ SCU-"

But before Crabbe could finish, George had reacted in a heartbeat and disarmed them both, catching their wands high above his head and tucking them into his cloak. Disarming multiple opponents at once, he and Fred had learned that one from Professor Flitwick. After tempting him with some pre-Wheezes merchandise he had relented and taught them some advanced charm work just before they'd left the school. Good ol' Filius. As long as your opponents were of equal size and weight, which Crabbe and Goyle were, you could basically treat them as one person.

Malfoy was rooted to the spot, wand still raised but distracted by the disarming. George took the opportunity to charm Crabbe and Goyle's heads to collide with one another, effectively knocking them out cold and preventing them from interfering.

"You're mine now, ferret," said George in a singsong voice.

Malfoy, now understanding his predicament, began firing curses and hexes towards the redhead, not going down without a fight. George, expecting this, began blocking with ease. He and Fred practised duelling all the time, nothing short of an Unforgivable was going to best him, and he doubted Malfoy had the balls to cast one of those.

The concussion finally getting to him, Malfoy was caught unawares by a disarming spell, and to his horror, his wand flew out of his hand, up into the air and straight into the twin's clutches.

George grinned like a Cheshire cat, and stalked towards Malfoy thoroughly intending to have his mouse.

 

**19:49**

George was casually making his way down the seventh floor staircase feeling quite satisfied with himself apart from the Weasley appetite that was about to rear its head at any rate. He was just contemplating a mosey down to the kitchens when his thoughts were interrupted by a commotion getting closer. Quickly making their way around a far corner and coming up the stairs in front of him, were Lee, Harry, Ron, McGonagall, and Snape, who upon spotting him and his smug face instantly rounded on him.

"WEASLEY!" he seethed before Minerva could get a word in. "Where are Messrs. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, and don't play dumb with me, boy, I can tell you've already found them."

George glanced at Snape briefly before turning to Harry and Ron instead. "How's Fred, is he ok?" he asked, completely ignoring the potions master.

"Yeah he's fine," said Ron, smiling in relief that George was back to his usual self, and at his brother's blatant disrespect. "Madame Pomfrey performed a spell on him to clear up his breathing; _Anapneo_ I think is what Ginny said; she found us and told us whilst we were trying to keep up with you, but you must've taken a hundred shortcuts or something 'cause we lost you after like two minutes! It was Sir Cadogan that tipped us off to you being up here."

"Why were they coming up to this floor anyway? And how did you know they'd come up here?" questioned Harry.

"I think the real question is, what did you DO to them?" grinned Lee.

"YES I think we'd ALL like to know Mr Weasley, if you don't mind," said an exasperated McGonagall, fixing him with a look very reminiscent of his mother.

"For starters, I didn't kill them or permanently disfigure them in any way," he began. "Even though I really wanted to," he added under his breath.

"Aw," came the general reply from the Gryffindors.

McGonagall shot them all a look.

"I knew they'd run for it and come up here to hide in the room of requirement as Malfoy is under the impression that Fred and I know secret ways into each of the common rooms, so I headed them off and waited for them." He then paused for dramatic effect.

Snape was getting impatient. "Mr Weasley you have a grand total of five seconds to tell me where they are and what you did to them before I lose my temper!"

George rolled his eyes and finally turned to him. "Two of your precious snakes are currently in the Astronomy tower, safe and sound albeit knocked out cold."

"And the THIRD?" Snape growled.

"Hanging from the rafters of the Astronomy tower by his ankles, wandless, and in the company of a boggart," he beamed. "You might want to go and get rid of it for him, nasty things they are," he said casually, walking past the stunned audience and continuing his meander down the stairs, whistling as he went. He disappeared around the stone corner and smirked to himself at the unmistakable sounds of clapping hands, and Ron's loud laughter.

Once the school had been informed of Malfoy's predicament via the word on the street - AKA Lee - everyone had ran outside to the viaduct beside the Astronomy tower, completely ignoring the staff inside, to try and observe his flailing arms and girlish screams as Snape _Riddikulus_ 'd the Boggart and attempted to undo George's bindings from around his ankles. Some of the Gryffindors were rolling on the ground, tears of mirth streaming from their eyes as they laughed shamelessly. First years from every house seemed amazed that this sort of thing happened here; many of their expressions were a sort of split between panicked apprehension and child-like glee. The Slytherins simply seethed.

"How long do you think it'll take him to realise that those aren't actually undoable?" started George, gazing up from his position at the back of the crowd.

"Weasley's Nefarious Knots?" beamed Fred standing next to him, his arms crossed in thought. "I reckon a good five minutes."

"I think about ten," said George. He glanced at Fred out of the corner of his eye. "Five sickles?"

"You're on, brother," he replied automatically.

Lee soon pushed through the crowd towards them along with the Gryffindor Quidditch team and a few fifth and sixth years. "How long do you think it'll take him to realise that those aren't actually undoable?" said Lee, unaware he'd just quoted George.

"Oh a while yet," the duo replied in unison.

The crowd suddenly began to stir again. A tall green witch's hat, now visible above the heads of the students, began making its way through the bodies towards them. The group parted completely to reveal a slightly dishevelled McGonagall who, upon seeing the twins, walked in determined strides straight at them, stopped, placed her hands on her hips and glared.

George thought he could see the remnants of a smile still on her lips, but he simply clasped his hands behind his back, lowered his head slightly and tried to look contrite. It didn't work.

"Jordan, if you would be so kind as to go and divulge to Professor Snape how to undo those _magical_ knots. Otherwise I feel Mr Malfoy might remain there until Christmas," she said giving the twins a knowing look.

"Yes Professor," he said hurrying off.

"You will be pleased to know," she began, "that once Mr Malfoy is back safe and sound on solid ground, he will be serving three weeks of detentions with Mr Filch, and will have to be on his best behaviour if he wants Slytherin out of negative house point values anytime soon."

The twins smirked along with the crowd of onlookers; _someone_ was going to be very unpopular for a while. Ah, justice.

"You will also be pleased to know," she went on addressing George this time, "that as you are no longer a student in this school Mr Weasley, I cannot bestow the same fate on you. However…"

George swallowed slightly, this didn't sound good.

"…You are a current guest of Hogwarts, and with my temporary position as headmistress whilst Professor Dumbledore is away, it is my responsibility to ensure that all guests in this school behave themselves during their time here. You did _not_ behave yourself this evening Mr Weasley, regardless of the fact that you had your brother's best intentions at heart."

McGonagall almost smiled at the sight in front of her, but she kept her features schooled into a tight frown, she was supposed to be in scolding mode after all. But the sight of a fully grown George Weasley with his head lowered, freckled cheeks slightly pink, and squirming under her gaze like a naughty schoolboy was almost too much.

"As you are an ex-pupil of mine," she continued, "I am not bound by the disciplinary rules of the school."

George winced and prepared himself.

"So Mr Weasley if you would hold out your hand please," she concluded.

George hesitated in confusion for a second but did as he was told, and to everyone's surprise she crossed over to him, turned his hand palm-down and landed a sharp smack on the back. George flinched slightly more at the sound than the pain, and retracted it giving it a rub, eyes wide and disbelieving. McGonagall then began wagging a cautionary finger in what he soon realised was mock anger. "Now, don't ever let me catch you threatening students or starting fights again. Am I clear, young man?"

"Yes ma'am," replied George, the corner of his mouth turning upwards.

The group sniggered.

"Good boy," and with a final wink and warm smile that told him she was on his side, she departed from the group of giggling students passing an irate Mr Filch and Mrs Norris on the way. She paid them no heed.

George made a show of rubbing his hand and pouting unnecessarily, aware that Filch was watching him. "Well I _certainly_ learned _my_ lesson."

A vein in Filch's forehead pulsed. He had seen the whole thing in the Great Hall, the way the hellion had actually had that Malfoy boy by the throat, and now after hanging him from the tower he was getting away scot free! If _he'd_ been in charge, he would've tanned the brat's hide so hard he saw _stars,_ in front of the entire school no less!

'I can dream,' he thought, as he reluctantly turned and skulked away to attend to his duties.

 

**21:03**

The demonstration had been a complete success. The twins had agreed to do it even after all the drama of the evening by each taking it in turns to don a piece of enchanted knitwear and get blasted by a number of hexes and jinxes performed by the other. The shield line did its job just as planned until at one point a spell cast by Fred with a bit too much 'oomph' knocked George clean off his feet and onto his backside.

"Whoops! Yes sometimes that can happen. Sorry there, bro!" he'd said over the chorus of laughter.

Once all was said and done, the twins gave instructions for the students to come to the front and collect a piece of knitwear. "We've made them in the house colours so there'll be no arguments!" they'd exclaimed.

Lee and the rest of the Gryffindors eventually came to the front to collect theirs.

"I still have to hand it to you George, you really had us going on the whole 'pretend rage' thing. I thought you were honestly going to murder him tonight," sniggered Harry selecting a maroon scarf.

"That was the idea," he chuckled. "I wanted him to think that too. Make him squirm a bit, you know."

"Well remind us never to get on either of your infamous bad sides. I'd hate to have to deal with the real deal!" admitted Lee. "You know, although I was under the impression that anyone who crossed your path at the time wouldn't've lived to tell the tale, us included, it was kind of hilarious after I'd ran in here to fetch McGonagall and saw the faces of the Slytherins. Some of them looked like they wanted to leave the country!"

" _Infamous_ -"

"-bad sides"? the twins replied.

"Yeah," said Lee, "you know as in the saying: 'Hell hath no fury like a Weasley scorned!'"

 

 

_**fin** _

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the fic, please leave a review; it's the only feedback us authors get.
> 
> A/N: What I think Fred's wand should be: 'Highly intelligent witches and wizards ought to be offered a walnut wand for trial first, because in nine cases out of ten, the two will find in each other their ideal mate. Walnut wands are often found in the hands of magical innovators and inventors; this is a handsome wood possessed of unusual versatility and adaptability. A note of caution, however: while some woods are difficult to dominate, and may resist the performance of spells that are foreign to their natures, the walnut wand will, once subjugated, perform any task its owner desires, provided that the user is of sufficient brilliance. This makes for a truly lethal weapon in the hands of a witch or wizard of no conscience, for the wand and the wizard may feed from each other in a particularly unhealthy manner.' Taken from Pottermore.


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